


tied together

by mak (cold_blue_eyes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bondage, Dom Derek, Light BDSM, M/M, Sub Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 04:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14096820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_blue_eyes/pseuds/mak
Summary: Stiles needed help from Derek.Derek knew the exact way to help him.





	tied together

“I need your help,” whispered Stiles into the empty entrance hall. Derek was somewhere in the house, the big wooden mansion he built for himself out in the woods. People in town considered him a hermit, but that’s because they’ve never been in the house.

Stiles had parked the Jeep and walked inside without a hitch. Derek barely came to open the door for him anymore because Stiles had a key and came by whenever he wanted to. Most of the time it was just to talk, have dinner or discuss supernatural matters, but every now and then Stiles needed something different, something that only Derek could give to him.

This didn’t need any talking anymore, didn’t need discussing boundaries because all of them were set in stone, and in ink and paper. 

As Stiles removed his shoes and left them by the door, dropped his messenger bag and took off his jacket to hung on the wall he felt his body relaxing in a way he couldn’t really feel during his time on the research lab.

He was working with an emissary down in Sacramento, but the woman wasn’t just making potions from old books, she had a laboratory were they studied down to a molecular level each and every substance used for supernatural purposes, finding new and different ways to combine them. This work has been sponsored by a group effort between three packs from central California and the Beacon Hills pack, but Derek and Scott didn’t have much of a horse in this race to discover new properties of magic. When Stiles came forward with this opportunity they just wanted to support him. 

However, these other three packs were ruthless. They always brought in new  _ collected _ material - and Stiles used that term loosely because he knew their unorthodox methods of collecting it. Had he known that beforehand he’d never accept the position, temporary as it may be. And it wasn’t like he could go there and challenge those packs to be released from the project, it would be a political nightmare and Stiles agreed to hold out until his contract was through.

At least he could always come home to Beacon Hills. And Derek was there when he needed. 

Stiles had needed the man a lot more lately. 

Quiet steps sounded as Derek came down the stairs, though he always made sure to be heard so Stiles could better prepare himself. 

Slipping into his role Stiles stood up, neck and shoulders raised, but relaxed. His feet were apart and his chest was high, presenting himself for appreciation. His eyes caught on Derek’s permeating gaze directed his way, even from afar, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel the energy building inside of him.

Derek came silently towards him, stopping right in front of Stiles. There was a faint ring of color in his eyes, that neon they shined when transforming. 

In front of Stiles, Derek took both of his hands and pulled them to Stiles’ back, a move that brought them together. Their chests touched as Derek maneuvered Stiles so his palms could hold onto his elbows, forearms pressed together.  Derek produced a scarf from the pocket of his pants and used it to tie Stiles around his wrists, not too tight but just enough to keep him unable to move.

“You alright?” Derek murmured close to Stiles’ ear, the huff of hot air making Stiles shiver.

“Green, always,” said Stiles, finding his voice with some difficulty.

Derek hummed reassuringly. He put some distance between them as he released his hold on Stiles’ hands, letting them hang at their own will while tied with the scarf. 

Derek grabbed Stiles’ chin. His gaze was calming in itself. Those eyes staring deep into Stiles seemed to be able to see something beyond the surface, and Stiles wouldn't bet against Derek having the power to be able to do that.

The place where they were skin to skin burned hot, making it hard for Stiles to suppress a shiver. 

The good thing about this arrangement was that he didn’t need to feel guilty for his emotions or about the way his body reacted to Derek, especially because the man caught every nuance of Stiles’ feelings whether he wanted or not.

Satisfied with his assessment Derek released Stiles’ chin, and Stiles let his head fall. Derek put a hand on his shoulder to guide Stiles towards the living room. Without words, Derek put him beside the couch and then pressed a hand against the ball of his shoulder so Stiles would kneel down.

Derek adjusted himself on the couch near Stiles.

Even wearing jeans, Stiles always found this seating position progressively calming, but only because Derek was there. He’d tried doing that sometimes in the past, tried concentrating on his breathing to forget the stress, but it never worked. In this setting, however, when Derek was beside him on the couch, his legs touching Stiles and Derek’s hand lightly resting atop of Stiles’ head, that was how he let go of everything.

The hand on Stiles’ hair found a calm rhythm as it caressed him, entwining fingers in the long strands and massaging his scalp with a soft touch. Stiles had to close his eyes, but he wasn’t in any danger of falling asleep. Derek’s touch energized him.

At that moment his mind started to clear up, not because Derek learned some new type of draining, but because this was something Stiles always yearned for. Just this simple act made Stiles disconnect from everything else, and his worries and thoughts vanished.  

Derek didn’t even need to order him to do anything most of the time since Stiles’ psyche was used to this and knew when to start depressurizing.

In a minute or two Stiles felt so light he was almost floating, although his knees were very much pressed to the ground. It was such a good feeling, such relief from the stress that the corner of his eyes started to get damp, and Stiles’ lips curled up at the thought of Derek making him cry as he petted him on the head.

“Your emotions seem convoluted, Stiles,” commented Derek, not asking anything, but prompting Stiles to talk.

“Maybe,” Stiles huffed out a quiet laugh but didn’t open his eyes. “I was just thinking that you have the ability to make me cry even when I feel so good.” 

At those words, Derek pressed just a tiny bit harder on Stiles’ head. 

“I can make you cry, I know. But it’s not what this is about, Stiles. I just want to keep you here, keep you quiet, sated and warm. Having you here close to me is always reassuring.” At that Derek pulled Stiles close to his leg, making him lean against Derek.

It was hard for Stiles’ heart not to start, but then he calmed down.

The smell of Derek’s sweats was a mixture of the woods with something underneath that was the smell of a man, the musk of a warm body, a wild kind of scent that Stiles couldn’t name, but he never stopped himself from taking a hit when he could.

After a moment Derek dropped his hand down on Stiles’ neck, close to his throat. Stiles couldn’t help the hitch of his breath when Derek closed his fingers around his windpipe and pressed lightly, letting his fingers there and not moving for a beat. 

Stiles had time to get used to it and then Derek pressed again, still light enough to let the air flow easily. 

In his pants Stiles felt the first tendrils of heat and heaviness. The more Derek pressed against his neck, closing his fingers around him, the more Stiles felt the blood rushing faster, and his pants getting uncomfortably tight. In a way, it seemed like Derek wasn’t just squeezing Stiles’ neck, but another part of his body.

Stiles’ fingers twitched behind his back. When Derek squeezed him just a little bit tight, Stiles involuntarily tried to move his arms but failed to do so. Still, it made him lose some of his balance, and Derek opened his fingers right then and released him. 

It was a punishment, and Stiles felt the cold absence of Derek on the skin of his neck.

“No,” Stiles whined, more frustrated with himself than with anyone else.

He opened his eyes to look up, but Derek was quick to push his head down, and Stiles chastised himself. He took a deep breath, tried to rid his mind of everything else and closed his eyes again. With another couple of breaths, he could feel some of his concentration coming back, and Stiles tried to breathe Derek in.

When Derek thought Stiles was quiet enough, he brought a hand to Stiles’ neck again and just like that Stiles sighed in relief. 

Derek massaged him with care, pressing his fingers against the skin in pulses, squeezing him tighter at each new one. It progressed slowly because Derek was nothing if not methodical when he wanted to be, but it was enough for Stiles.

This time he tried to concentrate on that touch and not be too eager because Derek would always bring him release. 

As the fingers squeezed him even more, Stiles was slowly losing all worries as he was losing air. Nothing would touch him until he had to go back on Monday, and at that point, he didn’t even care because he couldn’t foresee that far. That strong presence at his side was enough to keep Stiles in this moment, just like he wanted it.

It was hard to know the exact moment Stiles started to lose conscience, and sometimes Stiles even wondered if it was a direct reaction to the lack of oxygen or if it was something that Derek was able to do with his touch. Maybe he’d never know. But one moment Stiles could feel the touch of Derek’s fingers in his skin and the way he pressed tight, and then there was his cock so hard in his pants that Stiles felt it leaking, and his mind was clear and devoid of anything. 

And then there was nothing before Stiles found himself again. 

He was laying down the couch, his head on Derek’s thigh and a hand pushing the hair out of his eyes. No sooner he opened his mouth to say anything there was a bottle of water on his lips, and Stiles gulped down twice before Derek gave him some space to breathe.

Awareness started to creep in and Stiles felt a bit cold. Also, this deep fear of having just given himself over to someone always made an appearance, and he couldn’t help but sense his legs trembling.

“You did good, Stiles.” Murmured Derek from up there. Stiles turned his eyes to him and could see the man glancing back down. It was good to see those eyes so deeply connected to him. Stiles felt safe.

“I did?” He asked, voice a bit gruff.

“Of course.” Derek touched him on the cheek. “You were amazing, as always.” Then Derek leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

Stiles felt tears coming out of his eyes. It was such a natural reaction he couldn't help but snort. It felt like the perfect release, for sure. Derek said nothing as he dried those tears with his fingers, and then Stiles turned to bury his head on Derek’s stomach, not trying to hide from the world but wanting everything else to go away because this was good, and he wanted to stay right there.

“You don’t get to hide now, Stiles,” Derek warned. “Nothing will come for you tonight.”

Those words were reassuring, so Stiles let Derek turn him again so he could look Stiles in the eye.

“And you know you can be done with that anytime you want,” Derek mentioned. Stiles, for just the blink of an eye, thought that Derek was saying that Stiles could be done with this, with their arrangement, but then his mind arranged itself and Stiles understood what Derek was talking about.

And he also knew the answer.

“You know I can’t do it,” Stiles said, his voice coming out stronger now. 

Derek kept the careful touch on Stiles’ hair.

“We can fight those packs if we need to.”

Stiles shook his head. “It’s not about that. I do like the work, I’ve discovered so much in these last months, but the problem is that our ideologies just don’t match, not even me and Arina. She thinks the same way they do, and sometimes it scares me that they have this power in their hands.”

“But we also have it,” said Derek. 

“I know.” Stiles sighed.

“We’ll always keep an eye on them if you want,” Derek offered. 

“I don’t know if I really want that, to be honest.”

“Then, what do you want?” Derek asked.

Stiles was ready to open his mouth and say it, only he didn’t really know what he wanted to come out. What did he want, truly? He wanted to be a part of that research, wanted to gather all the knowledge he could because there were so many possibilities for the future. 

He also didn’t want to suffer so much while doing it, but at least Derek was always here for him.

And maybe, just maybe, Stiles wanted some more of this.

“You can always tell me,” Derek assured him.

Easy for him to say, though. He would know if Stiles was hiding something, but he wouldn’t know what would it be. Stiles wasn’t sure himself if he wanted to hide something away. Maybe what he felt was something of the moment, and after he left the Hale house and the woods he’d be back to his usual self.

But that was assuming this Stiles right here wasn’t the usual Stiles, and that was a lie.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to say it,” Stiles settled on that. Derek hummed, nodding along.

“Okay. When you’re ready to say anything, you’ll tell me, alright?” It was just a command as anything else had been.

“Yes,” replied Stiles.

Their eyes met. Derek’s gaze was assessing, and worried. Maybe there was more to Stiles’ scent that he knew himself, or maybe there was a lot still needing release inside of him, and Derek sensed that.

After he stared into Stiles enough, Derek turned back to the window, but his fingers kept their gentle prod around Stiles’ scalp.

This felt unfinished, Stiles knew. But he could come out with the rest of his feelings another time. At the back of his mind, he knew there was much to lose if he did something wrong, even though he never thought a single thing about this arrangement was wrong.

Derek always felt right.

Stiles closed his eyes, relaxing. 

Before sleep claimed him he felt lips on his forehead again. 

Maybe it was just in his dreams.


End file.
